Every day, I'm sad to say, I deal with people who are scared out of their wits.
They're scared of the meeting they're in.
They're scared of the next meeting they have to rush to.
They're scared of the meeting after that.
And meetings that haven't been scheduled yet.
They're scared to have an opinion.
They're scared not to have an opinion.
They get scared when they see a closed door.
And they're scared when doors are open.
They're afraid their boss will find out about them.
They're afraid their subordinates will undercut them.
They are folded, spindled and mutilated by fear.
They are consumed by fear like an alcoholic is consumed by drink.
They can no longer think straight.
They no longer relate to their spouse.
Or their kids.
Their weekends are spent cowering.
As are their nights.
There is fear of showing that you disagree.
Fear of saying something is good.
I am sad for these people.
They are afraid to laugh at jokes.
They are afraid to be themselves.
They are afraid to speak their minds.
They have no self, no minds.
They've been eaten, Zombie-like, by fear.